


The Open Jar

by 64K



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Denial of Feelings, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, or attempts to be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-04-22 15:23:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14311632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/64K/pseuds/64K
Summary: Envy’s been missing for months, now, and Kimblee idly wonders why. Really, he hardly cares, but he’s dying to complete the mission that Envy had given him months ago. If Envy was here, he’d be allowed to complete it… but a few months’ absence has shaped Envy into something entirely different from Kimblee’s nostalgia-coloured memories.





	1. A Job Incomplete

It had been long enough.

Kimblee slammed his coffee cup down on the side table, standing abruptly from his chair. He paced across the room, gazing out of the window down towards the city streets.

He hated it when these sorts of obsessions popped up in his mind; he couldn’t prepare adequately for them, and his mind and body would act in ways that made him uncomfortable. But this thought had been recurring for months now…

It had been long enough.

Kimblee had returned from Briggs feeling empty and unsatisfied. Shamed on the way there, helpless until the homunculi could descend to him with healing help (he could never forget that horrible feeling of being caught off-guard by his prey… that was worse than any physical pain could ever be), Kimblee had been kept from doing his Job by a multitude of obstacles.

That Job, of course, was to kill Scar, and capture Dr Marcoh. He’d been given that job three months ago, and had still neglected to carry it out.

It wasn’t entirely his fault. Pride, with all of his snapping teeth and swirling blackness, had assured him that carving the blood seal in the North was far more important than a simple search-and-destroy mission. And once Kimblee had carried that out and arrived back in Central, Wrath, with all of his imperial authority, had given him little job upon little job to complete, with hardly any chance to returning to the job that he’d first been given upon leaving prison. Seemingly, the threat of Scar no longer concerned the homunculi, and Dr. Marcoh’s capture was no longer a priority.

Kimblee wondered why that was.

After all, the job had seemed very important to _Envy_ at the time.

The thought of Envy was unexpected; after all, Kimblee had had no reason to think of Envy for some time. They had let him out of jail, given him a job, and left him alone, and that was that. He hadn’t seen them since that sunny day in October in the car, and since then, Wrath, and occasionally Pride, had given Kimblee his orders.

Envy, ever the enigma, had vanished from the face of the earth, and had left Kimblee trying to sort out the pieces of what his release actually meant.

All that he’d done since returning from carving the blood seal in Briggs was, essentially, running errands. Wrath would call him, and he’d do whatever inane little task the Fuhrer gave him. The jobs were tolerable, but hardly gave him the coveted rush of adrenaline that Ishval had given him years ago. Anybody could do these jobs, really—Kimblee was simply the most convenient tool available to carry them out.

But anyone could do them, and that’s what bothered him.

If Scar wasn’t important, and if Dr. Marcoh wasn’t important, then why had he been released under that false pretense?

Surely they were important, and the homunculi only had other priorities at the moment, but...

Leaving a job undone bothered him terribly; Envy knew that, they knew far too much, and they had used that knowledge against him, to motivate him to complete the job–“You’re not going to leave this undone like the other ones, are you?”

Kimblee let out a breath that he didn’t know he’d been holding, leaning a fist against the windowpane.

Perhaps the reason why Envy had left him alone was that he hadn’t been capable of completing the job that they had thought he would so enjoy…

* * *

 

_Three months earlier: (October)_

“I did… miss you.” The words felt far more sentimental than Kimblee had intended, and he amended them with a cough. “There wasn’t much entertainment in prison, after all.”

“O-oh, really?” Envy looked to the backseat briefly, the ever-present grin only slightly more sober than usual. “Well. Glad to know that I’m charming, fun to be around,  amusing—"

“—all of that, and so much more,” finished Kimblee wryly. He adjusted his hat sharply, and looked out the window. “What I mean by that is…” It was hard to word these things properly, somehow… “I’m wondering if things are going to be going back to normal now.”

It was hard to even explain what he meant by normal.

Prison had been a form of quiet torture for Kimblee. Not in a physical sense, or even in the sense that ordinary people would mentally feel anxious, or worried, or desparate for freedom. It was a quiet trial for him, easily endured, but torturous because of that separation from the euphoria that Kimblee had only ever known in Ishval. The restlessness in his core hadn’t left until today, until the warden had announced Kimblee’s freedom, and Kimblee leaned against the seat’s backrest, trying to alleviate the seven years’ nervous tension in his muscles that had still not died away completely.

The normal that Kimblee wanted really wasn’t normal at all, he supposed. He wanted a return to that bliss of years past: permission to kill, and the gift of indescribable power, and the scintillating conversations with the fascinating creature that he’d enjoyed cooperating with so very much. These concepts were the things that he’d held onto throughout these past years, and the promise of a return to that atmosphere was what kept him content all of this time. It was the normal that he wanted.

How silly, really; he almost felt… nostalgic, recalling such things.

“Normal, eh?” Envy didn’t look back this time. “And normal is…”

“... working with you again.” He might as well get straight to the point. The difficult thing was judging what Envy really did think of him. They had shared a strong kinship in Ishval; at least, Kimblee had felt that they had, but Envy did have other things to think about over these years, while Kimblee had not. It was hard to know whether Envy would take his answer in stride or would be puzzled about it. The way to keep from making a fool of himself was to downplay the question’s importance. “We do make a good team, no?” He smiled, shrugging. “Of course it was a long time ago, so you might not remember.”

The car slowed as it approached the red light, and Envy’s grin, still more subdued than usual, looked back towards him once again. “No, I remember, don’t worry,” they said, more softly than he’d expected.

“Don’t worry,” Envy said again after a pause. The light was green again, and the car accelerated. “Don’t worry. I’ve got lots of plans. I’ve got a lot to use you for. But you’ve just got to be patient, ‘kay? We’ve got to take things one step at a time. You do these jobs—these jobs that I picked out for you because I thought you’d like them and be good at them—and then we’ll see what happens.”

The response was a curious mixture of flippancy and sincerity that Kimblee wasn’t quite sure what to make of. He chose the route of resignation. “Ah, well, if you say so,” he said lightly, looking down at his fingers, lacing them in between each other.

“Aw, you don’t believe me?” Envy shook their head, continuing to stare at the road ahead. “Look, Crimson. Father… the others, well… they have specific ideas of what you’re supposed to do, and they don’t necessarily involve me anymore.” They shrugged. “I have lots of responsibilities now, y’know. There’s a lot of work for me to do. There’s no time for rolling around on sand dunes anymore.”

“I never did that,” said Kimblee seriously, yet unable to hide his smile entirely.

“Heh. I beg to differ,” said Envy with a grin. With a toss of their hair, they turned back to the road. “Anyway. Just do what you’re supposed to, and we’ll see what happens next. Understand?”

“Completely.”

It was irritating, Kimblee thought, that the human voice was incapable of completely masking the feeling of discontent. Envy could hear it, he was sure of it.

“I didn’t forget about you.” It was uncanny how Envy could read his mind. “And I won’t.” They looked over the backseat with a smile that seemed almost genuine. “You’re my alchemist, right? No way would I forget about what’s mine.” Once again, they turned back to the road. “Just do what you’re supposed to, ‘kay?”

Kimblee could certainly argue with that—he’d been “forgotten” for seven years, after all. But he chose to take the words as a reassurance. “If you say so,” he repeated, smiling out of the back window, enjoying the looks of the curious pedestrians as the car sped towards his new job, a chance to finally make himself useful and active after so many wasted days.

* * *

 

The phone rang.

Kimblee only picked it up because there was nothing else to do. He knew that it would only be another job from Wrath, something that anybody could do, something that didn’t require a specialist of any kind, something with no beauty. But he picked it up regardless.

“M-Mr. Kimblee…” The expected voice of the Fuhrer was missing, and in its place was another man’s, young, quiet, generic, and nervous. “You’re wanted down at the station. There’s some sorting out to do…”

How… irritating.

“Elaboration, if you please,” he said, leaning against the wall. “What exactly do you need me for?”

The man mumbled something nonsensical that Kimblee, to his annoyance, couldn’t make out. “Excuse me?” he asked, holding the receiver closer to his ear.

“R-really, it’s just a bunch of little problems around the city that’ve been building up…” The man coughed, then continued. “We haven’t been able to focus on domestic matters for quite awhile because of all of the military conflict, and we’ve finally gotten enough men to work on settling some of these smaller problems. The Fuhrer wants you to head delegations since you’re so good at that…”

Really? Domestic issues? How unflattering… Kimblee was no better than damage control, then.

“Surely you can handle minor disturbances yourself? I do have important matters to attend to…”

“Th-the Fuhrer said…” The man trailed off nervously, and Kimblee sighed. In his current position, he really couldn’t protest any further, despite his longing to get back to the Job that really mattered.

“Very well. I’ll be over to HQ as soon as possible,” he said, hanging up before the soldier could stutter out another reply. He put on his hat carelessly, buttoned his coat, and strode out of the door. The sooner that he arrived, the sooner that he could return to his thoughts of completing his work. Really, there was no acceptable reason for Scar to still be on the loose. Once he completed these small tasks, perhaps he could broach the subject to Wrath–or even find out where Envy had vanished to.

Really, it had been long enough. He had to make some kind of progress today.

* * *

 

Delegations, it seemed, were more time-consuming than Kimblee remembered. Of course, the last time that he had done this, he had been consumed with the thrill of chasing Scar, but organizing and sending out groups of soldiers to deal with gangs of small-time criminals and other such domestic matters was hardly entertaining. He’d arrived here at noon, and the sun was beginning to set now as he shuffled through one last stack of files.

“Thanks for your help, sir,” said the nervous young man who had called him here (Denny Brosh, was it? Kimblee would remember that). “If you don’t need any more help, do you mind if…?”

Kimblee could see the apprehension behind the man’s pleasant mask. Of course, it was only natural for him to be anxious around the murderer of five high officials. Well, Kimblee hardly cared if the young man went home. “Very well. You may leave, if that’s what you want.”

“Ah. Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir.” Brosh turned to leave.

“Excuse me, wait.” Kimblee stopped, staring down towards the file in his hand. “What’s this?”

Brosh turned back, then winced. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m… rather new to this job and haven’t sorted out all of the files yet…”

“No, I mean, when was this picture taken?” This photo looked interesting, very interesting, but Kimblee wasn’t about to get his hopes up just yet.

Brosh leaned over Kimblee’s shoulder, taking in the information on the paper with squinting eyes. “Oh. That’s back from October, before your release.”

The photo was of Scar–Kimblee recognized him instantly–but he didn’t recognize the small girl standing next to him. Her face was unclear, blurred with movement, but Kimblee could tell from her dress and hairstyle that she was a foreigner.

“What do you know about this girl?” Kimblee asked, looking up. He kept his voice as casual as possible; there was really nothing immensely exciting to most people’s eyes in this photo, and there was no sense in putting Brosh on edge over a potentially-trivial photo from months ago.

“H-honestly very little,” stuttered Brosh. “This is the only photo of the two of them… but if you’re asking me, I’d guess that they’re allies. After all, she’s not running from him, and he’s not attacking her.”

Brosh had a point–although Kimblee doubted that Scar was targeting children, given his previous targets and his history, an ordinary child would hardly stand happily nearby a wanted criminal. It was certainly possible that they were allies in some capacity. Scar, it seemed, was less worthy of Kimblee’s respect than Kimblee had anticipated; what “good” man would bring a child with him into danger? But the connection of a second party with Scar was very interesting; other than the missing Dr. Marcoh, Kimblee hadn’t known that Scar was associated with anybody else.

This girl, if she was indeed closely connected with Scar, would help him considerably. If he found Scar, this girl, or the doctor alone, then there was a chance that either of the other two would be close by… of course, that was one of many, many assumptions, and the photo was a few months old at this point, but the idea that he had found even the slightest bit of a lead stirred up a thrill in his core that refused to subside.

“Sir?” Brosh stared curiously downwards. “Is… is there anything else that I can help with?”

Kimblee paused; there was no need for him to remain. “No… no thank you, soldier. You may leave. I’ll tidy up.”

Brosh, nodding gratefully, made his way out of the door, leaving Kimblee alone with his thoughts.

This photo was a small lead, barely a thread. But finding something, anything new related to the Scar case was unreasonably exciting. Now that he had found a new piece of information, the running thoughts that had been burning in the back of Kimblee’s mind for weeks were doubled in force.

He’d find Scar. He’d kill him. Then he would find Marcoh and bring him back here; they’d wanted him before, so surely they could use him for something now.

It was only a matter of getting away from Central to carry out the deed… It seemed as though he would need to pay Wrath a visit. Kimblee would plan out his case carefully. If all went well, he would be allowed to leave without any difficulty.

And if it didn’t go well… Kimblee would find a way to leave without the Fuhrer’s permission. It had been far too long without completing his symphony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erm... so I'm finally starting a Kimvy longfic...! Please forgive me for mistakes; this is the first serious long story that I've ever attempted to write, and I'm sure that I'll make all sorts of errors with pacing and overarching themes and whatnot; I aim to improve as the story progresses. It's probably going to take a little bit to get into the action, so I hope that it isn't too boring to begin. If you've read my other Kimvy stories, you'll notice as time goes on that it's related to a certain AU of mine, but it won't be exactly the same and will hopefully expand on some of those small ideas I introduced in one-shots.
> 
> Updates will probably be slow-ish, unfortunately; I'm a very slow writer, but I'll see if I can do it weekly. Big thanks to the writer Sevv7 for beginning a Kimvy longfic and getting me into writing this one that's been bouncing around in my brain for months now. Thank you for reading; I hope you enjoyed it!


	2. Cold

Tap. Tap.

A small fist knocked on the glass walls of Envy's container. Envy blinked, moving painfully at the sound. The cold was… bad now; they'd always had a hard time with the cold, but it was horrible now, now that they were… were trapped in here.

"You okay?" a high-pitched voice asked, its owner's shining eyes peeking into the glass, breath clouding the smooth surface of the container. "You've been awfully quiet for a long time now."

What did she  _think_? Of course Envy wasn't okay.

"Oh, I'm just  _fine_." Envy hated the sound of their voice, high-pitched, weak, a mockery of what they  _wanted_ their voice to sound like. "Wonderful. Thank you  _so much_  for asking."

"Oh." Mei looked almost sad, and Envy felt the smallest bit of pride, that even in this state they were capable of hurting her feelings, at least. "I was just checking."

Envy ignored the last statement, as well as the glare that came from Mei's ridiculous little cat, and, turning from her, curled into a tight ball on the floor of the jar. The glass was cold, and Envy was  _so_ cold…

"At least we're not in the far north anymore," said Mei cheerfully, "but I guess it's not really going to get much warmer… it's winter, after all."

"Yes, I'm aware of that." What an idiot. There was no need to fill up the silence with empty conversation; Envy had enough screaming thoughts running on in their mind to drown out a crowd.

They had to get out… they had to get  _out_  of here but they  _couldn't_ …

And they couldn't beg her; their pride wouldn't allow it. And this girl was stubborn, far too stubborn to let them out regardless of whether she listened to Envy's pleas or otherwise.

"I'll make sure my father takes good care of you." Mei was looking at them again, again with that disgusting pity in her eyes. "You're bad, but I'll make sure that you're treated well. It must be so hard for you, after all…"

"Would you kindly shut  _up_?" Envy wouldn't shout, as much as they wanted to; their voice would crack, or squeak, or do yet another thing that they didn't want and couldn't control, but they forced it to be as low and dangerous as they could possibly control it to be. They refused to look at her, though… because surely she was laughing at their futile attempt to control her actions.

* * *

"You have business with me, then, Crimson?"

It felt odd, somehow, hearing that nickname being used by anybody other than Envy. Kimblee was used to being called "Major Kimblee" in the past, and then simply "sir" or "The Crimson Lotus Alchemist," by those who were more in awe of him. Envy had been the only one to refer to him by that careless short-form of his title, and to hear the word in a voice so different from that smooth, laughing one of months past made him vaguely uncomfortable.

He didn't quite like the look in the Fuhrer's single eye; it was difficult to read, but almost seemed to carry a kind of amusement that he couldn't trace back to anything he'd yet said or done.

It was unsettling, but the feeling wasn't something that he was unused to. There was a family resemblance between Envy and Wrath in terms of demeanor. Kimblee had something to work with.

"Yes, actually." Kimblee said the words pleasantly, casually. There was no sense in making Wrath biased against him from the onset of their conversation, but at the same time, Kimblee wanted to assert his independence. "You see," he went on, "there's a certain job that I've left undone, and I'd like permission to go on and see it through."

"I assume you're referring to Dr. Marcoh, then?"

Kimblee frowned; Wrath had already anticipated his question, and the smirk beneath the Fuhrer's mustache was already a bad sign. "Yes, actually," he said calmly. "That was the reason that you originally had me released, wasn't it? You've had me doing so many other little jobs that we've forgotten the original reason that I was brought out."

"There are many things that we need to accomplish at the moment, Crimson Alchemist," said Wrath, leaning back in his chair, "and whatever I have you doing at the moment is what I want you to do. Marcoh's not a priority at this time. Of course, if we happened to come across him at some point, we could make use of him, but we can make do without him for now. Our focus is on keeping the government stable for the next few months, and I can't have one of our few field agents out gallivanting on some wild goose chase that is unlikely to lead anywhere."

"That's interesting," said Kimblee absently. He sat down in the chair opposite Wrath, looking off into the wall's corner. "Because your sibling made the Marcoh and Scar situation sound quite urgent in October."

Once again, Wrath's reaction caught him by surprise. The Fuhrer's chuckle was almost unnerving, its friendly, elderly timbre saturated with sinister overtones. "Ah,  _Envy;_ that's why you're concerned _._  Now I understand, although I'm surprised at your gullibility. You're rather easily fooled if you believe that you can take Envy seriously."

"Oh?" Kimblee said the word lightly, hiding his confusion. He'd hoped to use Envy's name as a means to make his proposal carry more weight, but it seemed to hurt his case instead. "Do elaborate, if you don't mind."

"If it'll make you stop your pining after your 'job,'" Wrath chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "You see, Envy's pride was deeply wounded three months ago; Marcoh disappeared under their watch, and, of course, their Father wasn't entirely pleased. Since we couldn't spare anyone else to go after the prisoner, Envy begged to have you let out to go after Marcoh and his rescuer in order to have them returned and to relieve their embarrassment." He raised an eyebrow. "Of course, Envy sees you through rose-coloured glass because of your work in the war, and they overestimated your abilities, so I'm not sure that you succeeded in what they wanted you for. But," he continued, shrugging, "you did some useful work after all, even if it wasn't what you were wanted for, so I suppose their judgement wasn't completely off."

Kimblee let his breath out slowly through pursed lips. Wrath's blunt words made his scarred-over pride ache again, (it really never would heal fully until Scar was a bleeding heap on the ground) but with careful management he would keep the wound from re-opening. "Well. I'm glad to know that I was of some use, at least, even if it was unintended," he said pleasantly.

Now that he considered Wrath's words further, perhaps Kimblee had unintentionally uncovered the reason why Envy hadn't bothered with him after their one meeting: he'd failed to assuage their embarrassment. The thought somehow dimmed the excitement that he'd previously felt at the thought of killing Scar; really, if the job was only a by-product of a mistake that Envy had made, then it was far less glamorous than a special job, hand-picked for him by an old friend from the war.

"To answer your question…" Wrath was looking him in the eye now, and Kimblee snapped to attention. "I'd say that Marcoh's not a priority, not for now. We can do everything that he does under our own power at this point; the man is so timid that he'll do nothing with the Stone but heal others. He's not going to do any harm."

"Scar, then?" Kimblee thought that he might as well push for what he really wanted. "You don't consider him a threat?"

"He hasn't killed any alchemists for three months." Wrath took a sip from his teacup, putting the vessel back down on the desk with an authoritative clink. "There's no need to go searching for him, since he's not an immediate threat. However." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desktop. "While Marcoh can be allowed to escape, the Elric brothers cannot." His mouth quirked. "That's another failing of yours, isn't it?"

Ah.

Memories of that moment in the abandoned mining town floated to the front of Kimblee's mind, and he fought to push them back to where they belonged; there was no sense in dwelling on that moment of recklessness, half anger and half triumph, where Edward Elric had so nearly brought him low for the second time in less than a week. That explosion had sent Edward falling to who-knows-where, and Kimblee didn't want to remember it; it was a representation of a survival instinct that he shouldn't have had to use.

Of course, Edward was a survivor, and Kimblee was sure that he was still alive, and Alphonse too. But they had escaped from under his watch–yet another failing.

_Must be quite a blow to the old ego, eh Kimblee?_

Envy's nonchalant observation from their meeting months ago popped unbidden into Kimblee's mind. This time, he didn't bother trying to compartmentalize the thought; it was too much work to be worth the effort.

"…which is why I'm giving you permission to search for them." Wrath was looking at him, eye narrowed, and Kimblee straightened his posture, meeting his gaze.

"You can leave tomorrow and go wherever you see fit. I know how you're renowned as a tracker and I trust your judgement. But," continued Wrath, "I expect that you'll have both brothers back here in Central within the month. They've been neglecting their duties for far too long, don't you think?"

"Of course." Kimblee knew better than to push his luck. "Thank you for your time." He arose from his chair, leaving the still-smirking Wrath behind him as he made his way to the road outside of Central Command.

His meeting hadn't gone as expected, and Kimblee wasn't entirely satisfied by the outcome. But Wrath's insights on Envy were interesting, if remarkably derogatory. It always fascinated Kimblee to see what the different homunculi thought of each other; to see such legendary creatures fighting among themselves was something worth recording and studying the nuances of. But despite these interesting bits of trivia that he'd uncovered, and despite the permission to complete yet another unfinished job, the fact remained that Kimblee had new information, new leads towards Scar that he was discouraged from using.

There would be some way to use them; he knew that. But he simply had to be careful. Eight years ago, as a young man, he would have simply left a system that he disagreed with and forged his own path. But he knew by now that there was no crossing the homunculi, not without careful, meticulous planning and diplomacy.

* * *

The worst thing was that nobody seemed to care that Envy was missing.

The act of capturing Dr. Marcoh, which should have been a simple task of a few days' travel to the north and back home, had been stretched into a hellish, humiliating ordeal that had lasted weeks, now, and still nobody came to look for Envy.

They'd been travelling for what seemed like ages. Mei, after all, was only a little girl, and despite her abilities, she wasn't able to travel far in one day. They traveled slowly, almost at a crawl; it would have been easy for somebody to find them, but still no one came.

Why was nobody coming? Couldn't they see that Envy was missing? Didn't anybody care that Envy was gone?

Envy thought that Gluttony would have cared, at least–but he never went anywhere without an elder sibling's supervision, and without Envy at home to watch over him, he would hardly be allowed to leave Central to search for his wayward sibling.

Wrath was busy, and Greed…  _Greed_  wouldn't care. Neither would Pride; Envy's bitter feelings towards their eldest brother were mutual. And Sloth was working hard on the only thing he knew how to do, and Lust was… gone.

It… hurt to think that the one person who might have cared enough to come looking for Envy was only a pile of ash on the floor of Lab 13, no longer a living, breathing creature.

Although… if Kimblee had survived this long,  _he_  might come. Father might allow him to come–or any of the other officers who knew of the existence of the homunculi, of  _course_. But Kimblee seemed likely; he was the youngest of the people in on the conspiracy, and the most suited for travelling, and, really, he would be perfect. Surely Father was sending him at this very moment.

The idea made Envy feel sick from relief and disgust mixed in equal parts.

Kimblee, their loyal supporter, their old "friend" from the war, who had only ever thought of Envy as something akin to a deity, would see them reduced from beauty to this ugly creature, and Envy almost couldn't bear the thought. But, Envy reminded themself, they really shouldn't feel that way. He was only human, Mei was only human, and all others who had witnessed them in this form were only human. Their opinions of Envy hardly mattered.

Somehow, however the thought of Kimblee feeling disgust towards Envy was disgusting in itself, and Envy couldn't rid themself of that pervading feeling.

But they would sort out their feelings when the time actually came. Kimblee would surely be along soon–of course, he would. The more that Envy thought of it, the more they were convinced that Kimblee was on his way. Father needed them, didn't he? So it was only expected that he would send Kimblee to fetch them. And of course Kimblee would  _want_  to come; he had always been so fascinated by Envy back in Ishval. Naturally he would jump at a chance to swoop down and lift Envy up when they were so low…

No, no, there was no reason to phrase it that way. Envy was so tired now, and so cold, and there was really no controlling their thoughts for now; they weren't to blame for anything strange that might pop into their mind at this moment…

"We're going to stop in New Optain tonight." Mei's words broke through Envy's thoughts. "I don't want you to get too cold."

As if she actually cared. But the thought of warmth was something to look forward to. "Yeah, okay," Envy muttered, and curled up into a tighter ball. They just had to wait. Someone would be along soon, Kimblee or otherwise, and they just had to be patient. They'd be back to normal soon enough, and this whole ordeal would fade back into the realm of almost-forgotten memories, along with the rest of Envy's nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to the people who read last time! :D I'm so glad you're enjoying it. I'm sorry for how slow the beginning still is; it feels like it's just crawling along to me, but I do want to give enough background. The chapters are flowing fairly easily for me at the moment, so I'm trying to take advantage of that. It's funny how much difficulty I'm actually having writing Envy; they used to be the easier of the two for me to write, but now it's Kimblee who's easier by far. I think it's because Envy's in such a different situation than is usual for them, and they're missing the carelessness and superior attitude that I'm used to dealing with.
> 
> Again, thank you so much; I'm very happy that people are taking the time to read this!


	3. Luck

The green grass and trees of the area surrounding Central gradually gave way to brush and sand as Kimblee watched idly through the train window. Amestris was a small country, at least comparatively speaking, but train travel still took hours, and even days, in order to get to any major city, and Kimblee was discontent, merely sitting alone with little to do. Bored of watching the landscape gradually change, he tipped his head back against the seat, mentally reviewing his plans to carry out the job given to him by the Fuhrer.

No one had heard from the Elric brothers for the past few months–nobody that would talk, at least, and so Kimblee was left with little to work with. His best plan of action, he had decided, would be to explore areas that the brothers had been known to be active in. Liore was the first area on his list; after all, they had rather delayed the homunculi's plans there, hadn't they?

At least… he'd heard something about that, by his own deduction, by reading various reports on the events written from a "neutral" point of view, and deducing himself in what way the Elrics had thrown a wrench into the Plan.

Nobody had told him personally.

Sometimes he wondered how "important" he really was, if he wasn't told what he was supposed to know…

In any case, it was certainly possible that the boys would have traveled back to that city; they were both humanitarian enough that they may have wanted to check up on the damage that the riots they were indirectly responsible for had caused. And if they weren't there, Kimblee would pick up on any clues that he could possibly find, and he'd start again. They wouldn't have left Amestris; they were too attached to their friends and family for that, so it was only a matter of finding where within the borders they were hiding.

Kimblee suddenly became aware of the changing light in the train car; the sun was setting through the snow-clouds in the sky, its coral and orange hues lighting up the sky nearly as wonderfully as when sunsets were in vogue seven years ago, when his fiery explosions would meld with the softer colours of the sky. The train would be coming to a stop soon, he supposed.

"Arriving in New Optain in fifteen minutes!" came the voice of the conductor, confirming Kimblee's suspicions. Kimblee listened to the conductor's heavy footfalls, not bothering to look at the man himself, and once again leaned back against the backrest. Just a brief overnight stop in New Optain, and then he'd be back on track. He wished that they didn't have to stop, but most people didn't have the endurance that he did, and, after all, there might be something of interest in this town. Kimblee would make the most of the stop, and return back to his search for the Elrics in the morning.

* * *

"Almost there." Mei breathed out the words in a sigh of relief, and Envy felt her footsteps speed up as they descended from the foothills towards the city below. Her hands were shaking–she must be cold too… not that Envy cared, really; it was simply an observation. But, if they had to be carried at all, it would be nice after she was warmer tomorrow, since they wouldn't have to put up with that constant trembling any longer.

The wind blew slightly aside the cloth that wrapped the jar, and Envy immediately took advantage of the chance to actually  _see_ something for once, pressing their eye against the glass. The city that they were approaching was mid-sized, smaller than Central, but far bigger than that pathetic excuse for a town that they called North City. Envy could see that it had a sizable outskirts that they would have to travel through before reaching anywhere worth staying the night; the railroad station, it seemed, was the biggest building anywhere within the borders of the city.

Envy watched the smoke from the trains rising up into the sunset as Mei continued walking cautiously towards the city. There were lots of people there, they were sure, getting on and off those machines and travelling who-knows-where. Maybe there was somebody there to come and find them… but the chances were slim, and Envy shoved that hope to the back of their mind. Certainly,  _somebody_  would come for them at  _some_  time, but it wouldn't be in New Optain; Envy had no connection to the city and nobody would expect them to be here.

But… where would they expect Envy to be?

Really, if Envy could have chosen to go anywhere, they would have gone to Ishval, where it was warm, and sunny, and bloody, and nostalgic… and if it was Kimblee looking for them, then that's where he would go…

Envy was never going to be found, were they?

Mei's soft footsteps echoed through the alleyways as the three companions crept past the railroad station. A train whistle sounded, and Envy watched as the small crowd who had been on the train dispersed. So many people, so many worthless creatures, all going off to their daily lives…

Someone was looking at them.

Envy blinked, and then they couldn't see the person anymore; Mei had moved too quickly, and now a building blocked their view. But somebody–they didn't know who–had seen them; someone had looked them in the eye…

Mei wouldn't be happy; she had wanted to stay as incognito as possible along their trip to Xing, and was only looking for a place to stay out of desperation. As unnerved as Envy felt, having someone look at them after weeks of being hidden from the world's view, they felt a certain dark satisfaction as they told themself that they  _weren't_  going to tell Mei that someone had seen them. Every little secret was a victory in this place of humiliation.

Mei continued walking on, and Envy curled up against the jar's glass wall, just… hoping. Somebody had looked at them, and maybe that meant… maybe it meant that they'd be rescued before long. Most likely not, but–well, they could hope.

It's funny, really, how Envy's mood would fluctuate so hugely now, ever since being imprisoned like this, from hope to anger to complete and utter despair…

There was a footstep behind them.

Envy felt Mei whirl around. "Who… who's–"

"Oh, relax, dear." That voice… "You don't need to worry. Although I apologize for sneaking up on you like this; I only did because you seemed to be in a hurry. I only have a few questions, really, that's all…"

"I… am in a hurry." Mei sounded apprehensive; Envy felt her clutch the jar close to her chest. "I'm very sorry, but I don't feel like I have to tell you anything."

"Then I suppose that we're at an impasse."

It had to be Kimblee. There was no way that Envy could forget that voice, although it was older, and… weaker than it had been in Ishval. It was unsettling, but hardly different, but the contrast was still noticeable–although Envy should have remembered that from earlier, shouldn't they? When they had so briefly seen him and given him orders… Envy had nearly forgotten that meeting; it was so long ago, and so brief, and during a better, easier time. Of course, there had been no special reason for them to remember the event; all that they were doing was obeying Father in sending out another servant on a quest, albeit a servant that they'd specifically chosen and had some rapport with. There was nothing that terribly important about it…

But Kimblee was here now. He'd come to find Envy; they'd known that he would. Of course he had–Envy had never doubted it; he was always so dependable, and that's why they'd chosen him, of course…

"I do think it would be best if you answered me," said Kimblee, his voice losing its smooth edge that was reserved for public interactions. "You are an illegal immigrant, no? So there's that to report, and I'm sure that there's a dozen small infractions of the law that you've committed in your stay that I could easily dig up. And if you try to run away…" He laughed under his breath. "Well, I could easily capture you, I'm sure. So perhaps you want to rethink your stance? I only want to know about an acquaintance of yours–is that really too much to answer?"

Envy felt Mei's arms around the jar tighten once again.  _Just take me from her, already._ There was no need for Kimblee to question her. All that he had to do was take the jar from Mei and revive Envy. Envy didn't care what happened to Mei after that; she could run back to Xing for all they cared–

Envy wasn't quite sure who attacked first. There was a rapid movement, and a flash of light, and Envy's jar was flung aside, hitting the wall with a clang. Envy gasped as they hit the jar wall, falling down in a pathetic little heap. Out of the corner of their eye, they could see Mei's feet dashing past, and sparks of light flying from where she had drawn one of her circles. Kimblee's long white legs strode casually past the jar, moving lightly away from Mei's attacks, and  _why wasn't he coming to help them_? It didn't matter if Mei escaped; what mattered was  _Envy_ , and didn't Kimblee know that?

There was the bang of an explosion, and a quiet cry, and then it was silent. Envy, too impatient to wait for Kimblee any longer, struggled, rocking the jar from side to side until the fabric covering came loose, falling away from the sides of the jar.

Several feet down the alleyway from Envy, Mei lay slumped against the wall, clothes singed, a bruise blossoming out across her temple, and Kimblee stood casually across from her, straightening his hat.

Envy… didn't like seeing Mei like that. Of course, they didn't care about her, but she'd never done anything to purposely harm them, and the paleness of her face was so unlike the flushed cheeks and friendly smile that they had seen on their trip towards Xing. It was unsettling, and Envy hated being unsettled. And Kimblee still hadn't spared them a glance!

"You didn't have to do that, idiot." Envy forced their voice into a lower, more commanding pitch. "She's just a stupid little girl; it's not as if she'd have done much if you'd let her run off."

Finally, Kimblee turned, and knelt, and held the jar in his hand, staring down through the glass. Envy stared up, and tried not to shrink from his gaze; his eyes were very… unsettling, as was his expression. It was almost as if he didn't recognize them; it was almost as if he hadn't been looking for them at all…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, they finally meet... that's all I really have to say, this time! I hope that the pacing is okay; that's one of the biggest issues for me, so I hope that I'm balancing introspection and action well enough. As always, thank you so much for reading; I really appreciate everybody who bothers to read this! Thank you again; and I promise that I'll try to keep the chapters coming fairly regularly.


	4. The Antithesis of Empathy

Kimblee's breathing was faster than he liked it to be, and he stood still for a moment, rolling his shoulders back and surveying the scene as he waited for the breaths to slow. He hadn't expected the little girl to be a warrior in her own right, and shame on him for being unprepared; he had nearly been overwhelmed by her sudden onslaught of alchemical attacks. But he hadn't been, and he'd overwhelmed  _her_ , and there was no sense dwelling on a close call that nothing had come of.

Kimblee noted the girl's slumped position against the wall, and inwardly chastised himself; he'd knocked her unconscious, and he hadn't wanted that, because then he wouldn't be able to question her…

"You didn't have to do  _that_ , idiot."

Kimblee stopped dead. He… almost recognized that voice, but there was something so horribly  _wrong_  about it that he didn't want to accept the first conclusion his mind jumped to.

"She's just a stupid little girl," continued the voice, coming from somewhere behind him. "It's not as if she'd have done much if you'd let her run off…"

Kimblee took a step towards the voice. In the corner of his eye, he saw the glint of glass on the ground, and he looked down. A glass jar lay at his feet, wrapped loosely in torn fabric, and between the layers of cloth he could see the most peculiar little green creature… He picked it up for further inspection, examining it carefully.

"Well, finally." The creature spoke. "You took long enough…Kimblee…" It trailed off, blinking, its violet eyes slightly widening at Kimblee's bewildered expression.

He could never forget those eyes.

"Envy?" It couldn't be. This… ridiculous little creature, trapped in a jar… was this where Kimblee's immortal patron had been for all of these months? Reduced to such a pathetic state?

The creature swallowed, blinking. "Y-yeah…" Its voice, tight and wobbling, seemed an octave higher than Envy's ordinary tone. Then, it straightened, looking him in the eye with something resembling the confidence that Kimblee knew Envy to have. "Yes," it repeated, more confidently. "You took long enough. But you aren't really who you used to be, after all, so I should have expected as much. Anyway, you've stared long enough; let's get back to Central, then."

Kimblee hadn't… expected this.

"Look," continued Envy, explaining as though they thought of Kimblee as an idiot, "do what you're supposed to do. I can't get out of here right now; I'm not strong enough. You need to bring me back home so that Father can restore my strength. Father and Wrath must have told you, so go on…" their voice trailed away once again, and they looked up once again, eyes pathetically wide.

Surprisingly to even himself, the first thought to Kimblee's mind was to drop the jar and walk away. He had other work to do; he had an immediate task from Wrath to complete, and there was no time for anything else…

He immediately dismissed the thought. He couldn't just  _leave_  Envy here. Of course not; it was out of the question. But the discrepancy between what Envy should be and always  _had_  been and what Envy was now was revolting.

"Kimblee?" Envy's quiet voice, high-pitched, cracking,  _weak_ , pierced through his thoughts.

Kimblee blinked, and, tucking the jar under his arm, turned and walked out of the alley without a word.

Of course homunculi weren't  _invulnerable;_ he'd seen that before. But  _this_  was disgusting–really, there was no excuse for Envy to be so weak that they couldn't get away from trouble on their own. Of course, he wasn't disappointed, far from it. He was merely taken aback, surprised to see a piece of evidence, however small, that pointed towards Kimblee perhaps making the wrong choice of which side to ally himself with.

But still, Kimblee found that he couldn't say anything right now, without it being something he would regret. He would find a quiet place where he could organize his thoughts, and then he would make a plan of action, one that dealt with this little complication.

Kimblee's legs felt vaguely unsteady as he made his way back toward the train station. "An illegal immigrant," he heard himself say to one of his men who had waited for him there. He gestured with his free arm to where he had come from. "She's unconscious in the alleyway; bind her up and we'll send her to be jailed on the first train back to Central tomorrow morning."

He didn't have the energy to explain away the fact of why she was unconscious.

* * *

Envy watched Kimblee with a barely-suppressed fury from where their jar rested on the hotel bedside table. Kimblee seemed keenly aware of their venomous gaze, steadfastly refusing to look at them as he hung up his hat took off his outdoor coat, and placed his shoes by the doorway. Envy kept their eyes on him without pause; he might ignore them now, but if they made him uncomfortable enough, then he'd acknowledge them.

But he didn't.

Why was he ignoring them?

It didn't make any sense. Kimblee had come, as Envy was sure that he would, and he had rescued them from Mei, as they had known he would. Of course, it was only natural that he, limited by his human nature, would be shocked at the change in Envy's appearance, but it wasn't as if he hadn't seen Envy shift before. Besides, Kimblee wasn't easily shaken. Envy would never have picked him out from among the many other alchemists if he was a coward or a weakling. They had seen his levelheadedness, and his logical nature, and most of all, his nearly complete lack of humanity. He was hardly human, and capable of any atrocity that Envy commanded him to carry out.

And he was loyal, wasn't he? He  _enjoyed_  Envy, didn't he? He'd certainly seemed to in Ishval; they'd spent hours together then, talking about anything that sprang to their minds. And he'd wanted to keep working with them, as Envy recalled, after they'd come to pick him up. The man should be ecstatic to be with Envy in any shape or form.

So why was he being so distant now?

"Well, you can't ignore me forever." Envy finally gave in, speaking the first word. Anything to get him to pay attention to them.

Sure enough, Kimblee looked at them. Envy wished that he didn't; it was with that same disgusting expression as when he'd first picked up the jar, his pale eyes vacant and distant.

"Stop looking at me like that." The words slipped out before Envy had the chance to stop them, and embarrassed by the childish phrase, they pressed on, trying to re-assert command. "You can't ignore me. I thought you knew better. After all,  _we're_  keeping you employed."

Kimblee sat down on the bed without a reply, continuing to meet Envy's stare.

Slightly unnerved, Envy continued. "I guess you're having your fun being 'in charge' right now, and I suppose that I don't really blame you. Being hungry for power is such a very human trait, after all. But don't push it, Crimson, because when I'm out of here and when Father hears about it… well, I don't think that he's going to be too happy to hear about how you took your sweet time doing a job for him–"

"Envy, Envy." A smirk, barely noticeable, but very real, lit up Kimblee's cold expression. "You're so impulsive. I think that I understand now," he continued, idly tapping his fingertips together. "You've made assumptions, and now you're angry at me for not living up to them. You know, nobody  _told_ me to come and save you."

Nobody… told him…

"You've been gone for a long time, you know. For so long that your little brother's been telling me what to do now," continued Kimblee, smiling facetiously towards Envy. "I know. It must come as a surprise to you as to how much things have changed in your absence. But it only makes sense, since  _he_  actually has an idea of how to utilize me properly. He's at least always around for me to get in contact with. Of course," he said, looking absently towards the ceiling, "he isn't very interesting; he's quite predictable, especially compared to somebody else I know. But that's what you trade for job stability, I suppose. Wrath, at least, is not going to go off and disappear for months on end and beg me to rescue him from the hands of a child."

Envy barely registered Kimblee's words. Father… hadn't even cared that they were gone? Then why had Kimblee…

"Why're you here, then?" Their voice was shakier than they wanted, and they strained to keep it steady, as commanding as possible. "I mean, if  _I_  wasn't your job."

"Chance, I suppose. I was actually more interested in your little friend than anything else," said Kimblee, shrugging. "But, depending on how long you were with her, I might be able to use you instead. You know, to carry out that job that you thought I would like? It was so very thoughtful of you, really, to do that just for me… I'm only disappointed that you didn't care enough to follow up on whether I'd actually done it or not."

Envy stared past Kimblee, trying to comprehend what had just happened. "But…" they began weakly. "But why wouldn't you…"

"Poor  _thing,_ " said Kimblee, smiling again in that disgustingly pleasant way. "You're overtired, I think. We'll discuss a plan in the morning, alright? It's quite late, after all."

The sting of cold realization was almost more than Envy could bear. But they weren't going to let Kimblee have the final word. "Well, good luck in getting any sleep tonight," they said with one last burst of energy, relentlessly grasping to find any small victory over him. "Because I'm going to be watching you  _all_  night long. And you can't–"

Without a word, Kimblee grabbed the jar and placed it on the floor on other side of the bedside table. "Goodnight, Envy," Envy heard him say from above, their view blocked by the table. The lights dimmed to black, and Envy was alone in the dark silence.

They curled up against the wall of the jar, staring stunned into the blackness.

They'd… they'd thought that  _Kimblee_  at least…

Nobody had missed them.

They should have kn–

Envy bit back the sob before they knew what it was; it was only instinct–nothing could make  _Envy_  cry. Things would be better in the morning; they'd… they'd reassert control then, or… or something. Until then, they'd just try to sleep. Never mind Kimblee, never mind the disgusting tears threatening to spill over. It took more energy than they had to be logical now, after so much excitement. They'd be in control tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate them both so much right now (especially Kimblee)... they're both such huge jerks. Things should...(?) ease up a little next chapter, but they still have a long way to go...
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's been reading; I really appreciate you all!


	5. Open

It was still dark when Kimblee woke up the next morning, pale early-morning rays of sunshine just beginning to peek between the gaps in the hotel curtains.

He hadn't slept well; far too much had happened yesterday for him to have a restful night. The fact that Kimblee had attempted to sleep in his clothes hadn't helped the matter either; the idea of wearing anything other than his best with Envy in the room left him ill-at-ease, even if Envy was only a worm right now, and even if they were in a place where he had put them, and where they couldn't see him. It was irrational, but this whole situation was irrational, so Kimblee tried not to think much of it.

Slowly, Kimblee swung his legs off of the bed, and went into the washroom to make himself presentable for the day. There was a lot to do: there was a train to catch at nine, and there was a meeting that evening with a representative of the people of Liore, and–

Oh yes. There was the issue of Envy.

Kimblee tied back his hair carefully, mentally rehearsing possible sentence sets to use in his discussion with Envy. Last night had… not gone well. He hadn't been adequately prepared for the situation, and he'd revealed too much. He'd almost sounded  _upset,_  in his tone of voice, and the way that he'd brought up the annoyances Envy's unexplained absence had caused.

Although, it had been somewhat satisfying to have Envy have to listen to  _him_  for once.

But the thing that he'd missed about Envy, if he had missed anything at all, was  _not_  having Envy as a scapegoat to verbally assault: it was the camaraderie between them that they'd (or he'd, at least) enjoyed years ago. And there had been nothing resembling that uneasy companionship last night…

If Envy had been strong enough last night, Kimblee wouldn't be alive this morning, not after what he had said.

He'd just speak rationally to them this morning and determine a proper course of action. Kimblee couldn't leave Envy here, after all–if they managed to escape somehow and regain their strength, Kimblee was certain that he wouldn't live to see another day. Also, nearly anybody who saw Envy at this point would be disgusted by their appearance, and it was likely that somebody would kill them in this helpless state. The thought was unappealing; Kimblee really had to take Envy with him.

However, that plan depended on Envy's cooperation in the matter.

Emerging from the bathroom, hair tied neatly back, suit immaculate, Kimblee glanced at the clock on the wall. Seven-thirty. Still enough time to discuss things with Envy before the train had to leave.

Kimblee knelt on the bed, reaching over the bedside table. His fingers felt the cold sides of the glass jar, and he pulled it up, half-hoping that Envy wasn't awake. He didn't want to see those eyes staring at him, not until he was prepared for it.

Envy was still asleep, and Kimblee let out a slow breath, placing the jar on the bed as gently as he could. The tiny creature was curled in on themself, back facing him, breathing barely detectable.

They looked different than last night. Or rather, Kimblee perceived them differently; they weren't disgusting anymore, like they were after the initial shock. They were just… small, and pitiable.

Envy would hate to be thought of in that way. They were always so proud of being strong and beautiful…

Kimblee took a long breath, in and out, and bent towards the jar. "Good morning."

They stirred slowly, tail swaying out from where they were tightly curled against the wall, then suspicious violet eyes looking up. "Well," they started quietly. "What more do you have to say?"

The subdued bitterness was quite unlike the reaction that Kimblee had expected. Envy had never been one to hide their anger; Kimblee had been on the receiving end of their shrieking rants on more than one occasion. He knew how to deal with that reaction, but  _this_  wasn't what he had rehearsed for…

Of course, little bit of humility goes a long way in this sort of situation.

"Well," started Kimblee, adjusting his position on the mattress, "I'd like to admit, firstly, that I was rather too harsh last night. So I'd like to apologize for my initial reaction."

Envy blinked, but didn't look away, eyes narrow. "Good."

"As I suppose I made rather…" Kimblee coughed, " _obvious_  last night, I have a few grievances with you, and you have some with me now, so perhaps we can be even."

Envy looked away this time, staring across the room. "I still don't see what I ever did to you. And I'm not going to forgive a… forgive a broken contract so easily."

"I didn't break any contract." Really, they were taking this far too personally… "While I of course have worked with you most often, I work for your whole family. And since you weren't here, Wrath–"

"I know, I know." Envy glared towards him, eyes dark. "You already said. You're having  _so much fun_  working with Wrath, and Pride, and everyone else, and you've forgotten all about the person who got you this job in the first place."

"That's just what happens when somebody climbs the ladder of hierarchy, Envy." Kimblee shrugged, leaning back from those glaring eyes. "I can't live in the world of nostalgia forever, can I? And neither can you."

But he didn't  _enjoy_  working with the other homunculi more than he enjoyed working with Envy. Really, working with any of them was simply what he had to do at this point. He was too far into this conspiracy to do anything other than go along with their plans. Working with Envy years ago had been far more enjoyable than anything that he did now. Perhaps it was the carefree nature of that job, before the Promised Day had lost its mystery–Envy did have the uncanniest way of making any story sound like a long-lost mythological tale…

"But I haven't forgotten about you," he amended. "Of course not. Honestly, Envy, I'm insulted that you'd think it possible that I'd ever forget you."

"So many words, and I don't believe a single one," Envy muttered wryly, refusing to look back towards him.

He might as well press on, despite their decision to be annoyingly obstinate. "So, even though I haven't been asked to, I'm going to bring you with me."

"… _I_  asked you."

They hadn't asked. They'd commanded.

And really, as much as Kimblee might have a…personal bias towards Envy, due to their familiarity with him, Kimblee wouldn't put up with such ridiculous demands.

"You've forgotten something," he said patiently. "Other than possibly getting in trouble with your family for not rescuing you–which seems highly unlikely to me, since they didn't seem to think of your absence as a concern–I have no reason to help you. You're obviously quite helpless right now. And you know how much I'm enamored with the idea of the strong, so… I really have no reason to help you at the moment. However," he continued, stopping Envy's wordless protestations, "nostalgia is something that I'm swayed by, in spite of myself. I do have other tasks that I've been asked to do. But I'll bring you with me, and I'll return you to Central as soon as possible."

"Now." Envy's eyes hid a thinly-veiled panic. "I… I can't stand being in this…" They trailed off, looking away once more.

That disconcerting fluttering of pity that both he and Envy disliked so much reappeared in Kimblee's stomach, and he forced himself to ignore it. "I'm sorry. But it'll have to be after Liore at least," he said, swinging his legs off of the bed and slipping his shoes on. "I'm after the Elrics right now, and evidently it's quite important to find them. But, since you were with that girl…"

"Mei."

"Ah, yes. Since you were with Mei for a good deal of time, and she was with Scar, perhaps you could give me some advice on where he might be? Since you did want me to kill him." Kimblee smiled towards the jar. "I didn't forget about your job for me."

"You've left it an awful long time," muttered Envy. "You might as well have forgotten, instead of just sitting on the idea for ages."

"Your oldest brother has a very special way of convincing people to do other jobs," said Kimblee, putting on his coat. Really, it was hardly an excuse; the blood seal had taken merely a day to carve. But then, little job after little job had come up… "But you're right. It's quite inexcusable."

"That's what you said before…" Envy said slowly. "Back in the car. You said it was inexcusable that you hadn't completed the  _first_  job I ever gave you, in Ishval." Something like a smirk lit up their small face. "You're just repeating yourself."

Kimblee snapped his suitcase shut. "Well, I've heard that repeating phrases can have a calming effect on some people, so… I'm just trying to make you comfortable," he said, flashing his most pleasant smile towards the jar on the bed.

"Oh, please," muttered Envy as Kimblee picked up the jar. "As if that'd be one of your concerns."

"Shush," said Kimblee. He opened the hotel room door. "Let's just get to the train, shall we? The sooner that we find those boys, the sooner you can go home."

Of course, there were logistics to be dealt with–such as how he was going to transport Envy in an inconspicuous manner. But that could be decided on the train ride over to Liore, and that would be an excellent way to fill those otherwise idle hours. It would be far better to deal with concrete plans and strategies like that than to dwell on that  _feeling._

* * *

"You should take me out of this thing."

"And then what?" Kimblee stared out of the train window. "You'd probably do something that I wouldn't like. You'd find some way to take advantage of me."

"I wouldn't!" Envy's voice squeaked, and, embarrassed, they pressed tightly against one wall of the jar, forcing their voice to be quieter, for fear of other passengers on the train hearing. "You're so  _mean,_  Crimson."

"I wouldn't say that kindness is my most defining trait, no." Kimblee looked down towards the jar. "Regardless, I can't see any good reason for taking you out, other than the fact that it's awkward to carry around. You'll only get up to mischief if I let you out."

"Don't talk to me that way; I'm not a baby." Really, he didn't need to keep using such humiliating ways of speaking to them… although he'd always done it; it was just Kimblee's way to speak condescendingly. But it had never seemed so irritating before, when Envy's size was comparable to Kimblee's…

"Quieter, please." Kimblee's index finger pressed against the glass. "We don't want to cause a bigger fuss than we have to."

Envy couldn't help but agree. Thank goodness that Kimblee had managed to find an all-but-empty train car so that nobody would pay attention to the two of them. But this was different than with Mei; she'd purposely tried to stay out of sight, and she was the only one who could see Envy's humiliating state. But Kimblee would be in the city, and around other  _humans, carrying_ Envy everywhere and everyone would see them…

"I'll keep you as out-of-sight as possible." Envy felt Kimblee's hand rest against the jar lid. "I don't like the idea of leaving you somewhere alone–someone else might find you–so you'll stay with me. But I'll keep you as inconspicuous as possible–"

"Yeah, how? How're you going to carry this huge thing around with you without everyone looking at m… at you?"

"I'll figure something out," Kimblee sighed, his head falling back against the backrest. "I'm thinking."

"Yeah, well, think about the only option that makes sense."

"And have you manipulate me?" Kimblee glanced towards the jar out of the corner of his eye. "I know how you operate. If I give you something, you'll want something more, and I'll give you that, and you'll want something more again. For now, it seems in my best interests to keep your freedom in my hands."

How dare he? He didn't know anything; Envy wouldn't  _manipulate_  him; they'd just… make the best use of the situation that they could. Take advantage of him? Kimblee didn't need to be taken advantage of; he'd obey them without coercion–or he would; if he'd only let them out…

"I still think–" they ventured carefully, but stopped, seeing the flash in Kimblee's half-lidded eyes.

"I'm not discussing this any further," he said, and closed his eyes completely.

Why did he have to be so illogically stubborn? Really, Envy thought, as they tried to settle down into a somewhat more comfortable position, Kimblee was being horribly unreasonable. In contrast, Envy was a very reasonable person. They'd be able to play along with him to whatever point was reasonable; they wouldn't take advantage of him if they had no reason to do so, and if they did want more and more things from him, well, they had  _reasons_  for that…

It wasn't as though they couldn't justify every single one of their actions.

And couldn't he see how awful it would be to be trapped in here? They only wanted to be let out… of course, then they'd want to look young and cute again, and then they'd want revenge on the people who subjected them to this, and then they'd want…

He was right; they did want and want, but… it's not as if Envy had ever gotten anything that they wanted. So would it hurt Kimblee that much to give them something so small?

* * *

Envy awoke to the feeling of the train's velocity shifting to a slower pace, and the feeling of the jar being slowly tipped towards its side, and to the sound of the lid of the jar being screwed off, and the taste of fresh air for the first time in months.

"I'm disgusted by how sorry I feel for you right now." Kimblee's fingers tentatively entered the mouth of the jar. "I don't know how you do it; you just look  _so_  pathetic. I hate letting you win, but…" He sighed, his ice-blue eyes glancing away. "I suppose it was only a matter of time."

Envy wanted to feel smug, and to smirk, and to throw every variation of "I told you so" and "I knew you'd see it my way" in his face, but they… couldn't.

Slowly, struggling against their rapidly healing pride, Envy crept onto his hand. What they'd wanted for months now suddenly made them nauseous–depending on a human to let them out; resting on a human's palm, a human, how _humiliating…_

Envy stared down, trying to steady their nerves. The dark tattoo on Kimblee's palm was reassuring, familiar.  _He's different, Envy; it's alright, he's_ different.

"Thanks," Envy mumbled, unable to say anything else.

"You're welcome," Kimblee said, equally quietly. Then, suddenly, "I hope that I can trust you."

"Yeah, you can," Envy said quietly. And they both fell silent.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this was quite the wild ride... the Kimblee and Envy POV sections were originally supposed to be in separate chapters, but as I tried to start writing chapter six to stay one chapter ahead, the Envy section wound up fitting much better with what I'd previously written. As a result, I'm a bit behind with planning ahead, since the Envy stuff was supposed to be a part of a different chapter... but since I have a lot of free time this week I should hopefully be able to get a lot done in advance.
> 
> Thank you so much; I'm so glad people are enjoying this!


	6. Second Cycle of Longing

 

_It was the last Stone they’d made in Lab Five, the final opus, lovingly composed of the poor, wretched researchers who’d worked there. Of course, it was nothing compared to what gave Envy life, but it was beautiful all the same. The glint of red light flashed through the car over and over again as Kimblee turned it over and over in his hand._

_“Why so quiet?” they said teasingly. Of course they knew why, but they liked to ask anyway. It always amused Envy to see Kimblee get so worked up over these little gifts; he always reacted differently than other humans, growing quieter the more excited he got, the intensity of his feelings boiling quietly away inside him until it burst out in a torrent (that’d only happened once, in Ishval, in the Kanda district. They’d love to figure out how to make him laugh like that again…)_

_Kimblee’s gaze slowly shifted upwards, away from the Stone. “I’m just appreciating it,” he said with a smile. “It really is amazing—confirmation that the human soul does indeed exist, and the fact that the soul can be used as energy… it still astounds me after years of knowing about it.”_

_It’s funny how hearing him talk about the Stone made Envy feel… shy, almost. “Don’t get too poetic,” they said, with something like a cough. “You should remember who you’re talking to. That’s what keeps me alive, after all.”_

_Kimblee looked back down at the Stone. “Well, that just makes it all the more interesting to me.”_

Envy’d nearly forgotten.

He still had _that,_ didn’t he?

He couldn’t have used up the whole thing; that would be impossible. He should still have it on his person…

At the thought, Envy shifted restlessly from where they lay on Kimblee’s shoulder, trying to get comfortable with no success. This, they and Kimblee had decided earlier, was the best spot for Envy to stay. Somewhere where Kimblee could easily hear what Envy was saying, yet hide them easily under his scarf if Envy was in danger of being seen, and a height that was comparable to the one that Envy preferred for their ‘cute’ form.

They should have been more comfortable here, after being trapped in the jar, but they weren’t, or hardly at all, now that they’d remembered _that._

He must still have it.

All along, Envy had been dying to return to Father, to be restored from his souls, the way that he’d done for Gluttony when he’d been hurt. That had been the plan, and that was what they had tried to make Kimblee cooperate with. But this would be simpler, wouldn’t it? They’d be spared the humiliation of having to appear before Father like this.

Worse than Father’s reaction would be Pride’s. Father wouldn’t hurt them;  he’d be disappointed in them, which was horrifying enough, but he wouldn’t punish them—they hadn’t disobeyed or done anything wrong, only something stupid. To Pride, however, stupidity was just as worthy of punishment as disobedience. Envy had seen Pride’s righteous anger before, with some of the human officials in the past, and it had almost happened with Gluttony once before, when Lust hadn’t been watching him carefully enough and he’d made some mistake that didn’t fit Pride’s insanely high standards. If he found them before Envy managed to make it back to Father… Envy shuddered, and dug their fingers (if you could call them that) deeper into the fabric of Kimblee’s jacket. They’d have to be careful, and Kimblee too, if he was with them when they met Pride again.

Greed’s reaction would be horrible too, although Envy could take it; they’d taken it a hundred thousand times before. At least they wouldn’t fear for their life around Greed; he enjoyed tormenting Envy too much to ever kill them. It would be so disappointing, though, for this Greed to see them this way… Envy had hoped to make a new impression on him as his older sibling. This one had never seen Envy ugly before now…

Really, Envy didn’t want to go back. Not yet, at least, not until they were beautiful again, and not until they’d come up with some story, some cover to make it seem as though they’d been useful during this absence, and not being a complete waste of life. All that they wanted, for now, was their body back. Everything would be better once they had their body back. They’d  be able to control Kimblee by force, if necessary, rather than only through persuasion. They’d be able to stand up to Pride, at least on more even footing than currently. They’d stop feeling so completely _disgusting…_

Kimblee had to have the Stone. And Envy had to have it. But where would he keep it…

 _I said that he could trust me_.

Envy started, and as quickly as the thought had come, they pushed it to the back of their mind. Kimblee owed them. He owed Envy so, so much. And the Stone that he had now was only a loan, really—they’d never said that he’d be allowed to keep it _permanently._ There was nothing wrong with thinking about taking it. What did he need it for now, anyway? There were no hordes of Ishvalans to kill anymore; he should be able to handle himself with plain old transmutation circles, like every other alchemist could.

Although, he always kept the Stone inside of himself, didn’t he?

Envy chuckled. He’d always been weird like that. But really, that was a testament to how much that Stone really meant to him. He’d guard it with his life, as the easiest way to get it out in that case would be to rip him open. As much as Envy would gleefully do that to any other human, the idea of killing Kimblee was remarkably unappealing. Not to mention that they weren’t exactly large enough or strong enough to kill anybody at the moment…

They’d have to convince him. And really, that wouldn’t be very hard. They’d convinced him to let him out of the jar, after all, even after his initial… disgust. They were easily capable of persuading him, although they’d have to be careful—

“How _did_ you become like this?”

Kimblee spoke softly, but the suddenness still made Envy jump. “What?”

“I know that you’d never choose to appear in this form, let alone stay in it for this long. I’m just curious about what terrible circumstances put you in this position.”

Was he mocking them? It was hard to tell… he sounded sympathetic, but Kimblee had the habit of acting kindly for a moment, smiling sweetly until he had the information necessary to devastate someone. Envy’d laughed with him, years ago, as he’d provoked soldiers in the Amestrian camp in this same way. Even after Kimblee’s apology a few hours earlier, Envy still felt guarded towards him; his humiliating behaviour in the hotel made them reluctant to tell him too much.

And they couldn’t describe what Marcoh had done, how horrible it had felt…

“I was hurt.” Envy said, nonchalantly tossing their head. “I was hurt pretty badly, and my Stone couldn’t support healing something the size of my normal body. It made more sense to shrink down to something smaller that it could heal completely.”

“I see.” Kimblee nodded. “So even yours is finite, then,” he said absently, looking out of the window. “I just wonder what horrible thing could hurt _you_ that badly.”

They couldn’t say, couldn’t explain that it was a weak old man, an alchemist good for nothing but research, that was able to reduce them down to… to what they really were. “It was just on a mission for Father,” they said carelessly. “You don’t need to know anything else.”

Kimblee laughed under his breath, a small smile lighting up his eyes. “Hmm. You’re much more of a reckless little thing than I’d always thought.”

Fool. “I don’t know what you mean,” said Envy tersely, looking away from him.

They heard Kimblee chuckle again. “I’m sure you do. Even with all of your abilities and strength, you managed to get yourself in such a horrible predicament. You really must not have any sense of preservation to not run away before you were hurt so badly.”

Really, Envy could say the same about him. They’d heard about what happened with Scar, and had been furious, mortified, and… briefly terrified. Wrath, Pride, Greed, had all let Envy have it after learning of Envy’s "pet alchemist’s" failing, and they’d felt very strongly about it for quite awhile after the incident. “Well, I’m sure you know what it’s like to get so absorbed in your job that you don’t realize the danger to yourself,” they said, carefully allowing a hint of smugness tinge their voice.

Envy felt Kimblee’s shoulder muscles tense beneath them, then slowly slump. “I… understand. Well,” he began briskly, in an entirely different tone of voice, “how strong are you now? Not strong enough to shift back to your favourite body, obviously, but…” he trailed off, turning his head towards them expectantly.

Envy was reluctant to tell him; their pride was wounded enough, but… it was better if he knew. “If… if I got hurt again—even a little bit—I’d probably die. For good.” Their Stone was truly on its last legs, and, as humiliating as it was to admit it to Kimblee, they knew that he’d take precautions around them as long as he knew the reality of the situation.

And maybe he’d voluntarily give it to them…

Kimblee drew in a slow breath. “Oh dear. Well, we’ll be careful, then.”

It felt awful, more awful than Envy had thought, being a liability for a human. But it shouldn’t be so bad; that’s what Kimblee had signed up for, after all. He’d joined with them with the understanding that he’d be doing things for Envy. Only… he was supposed to be the weak one.

“We’ll be careful,” repeated Kimblee. “After Liore, we’ll go back to Central. It seems like it would be better to bring you back sooner rather than later.”

Last night, Envy would have been perfectly satisfied with that answer. But today, all that they wanted was that Stone. And yet, there didn’t seem to be any way to subtly bring up the possibility of him giving it to them. Kimblee seemed to be thinking of them positively right now, and it might be dangerous to wreck his mood by demanding, or even suggesting, that he give the Stone to them. “Good idea,” was all Envy said, curling onto his shoulder again, mind racing. They’d just have to find a more appropriate time to plant the idea in his mind—and they’d have to think up a good argument as well, for why it would be a good idea for Kimblee to give up his precious Stone.

Some minutes later, the train began to slow down. “I’m going to have to hide you now,” said Kimblee. He pulled his scarf loosely around his neck, lightly draping it over Envy. “Try not to fidget; I don’t want anyone staring at me.” He shrugged. “Although, really, you’re so little now that it’d hardly be noticeable.”

It was annoying, having to be under here, but at least it didn’t pin Envy down on all sides, the way that Kimblee’s pocket would have (they’d immediately shot that idea down when he’d suggested it). “Don’t call me ‘little,’” they said boredly, moving into as comfortable a position as they could. Of course, they’d already been called far more horrible things than ‘little’ before now, but still, hearing Kimblee call them anything less than wonderful was discomfiting.

Kimblee snickered. “You sound like dear little Edward. Ah, well.” He straightened his shoulders. “I hope that he and his brother aren’t too difficult to find.”

Oh, yes. He’d been in charge of them at Briggs, hadn’t he? And he’d lost them too, hadn’t he? Envy could see now; this ‘job’ from Wrath that Kimblee had been so proud of last night was really nothing more than a chance to fix a mistake he’d made. Really, Wrath was too nice for his own good; if it had been Pride put in charge of Kimblee after Envy’s disappearance, Kimblee wouldn’t have lasted long; he’d made too many mistakes already _._ Although, if Wrath treated Kimblee anything like how he treated Envy, he must have a lot of fun at Kimblee’s expense.

Envy couldn’t help but feel a little bit smug at the reminder of Kimblee’s current mission; knowing how precarious Kimblee’s current position with the homunculi was, even if he himself wasn’t aware of it, made Envy feel slightly better about their own position—slightly being the operative word. “Yeah, hopefully,” they said. “Wouldn’t want to make anybody upset with you for taking too long with finishing your work.”

The conductor was calling for people to exit the train now. “Mm… yes,” said Kimblee hesitantly as he stood up from his seat. “I’ll finish your job, too. Right after this.”

Oh, yes. He’d wanted Envy to point him in Scar’s direction, hadn’t he? As if Envy cared about Scar… if Kimblee had captured Marcoh earlier, like he was _supposed_ to, Envy wouldn’t be like this. But letting out that bitterness would mean talking about _that,_ and they… couldn’t admit that to him yet. “Don’t worry about it,” they said quietly as Kimblee walked down the hallway. “That job’s passed its usefulness, anyway.”

“Perhaps, but…” Kimblee trailed off. “I’ve noticed that I tend to leave things undone, and…” His words died away as he stepped through the doorway of the train into the crowd of exiting passengers.

“Mr. Kimblee?”

A woman’s voice rose above the noise of the crowd. Kimblee turned, and Envy peeked out from under the scarf as much as they dared. A young woman in a long white dress moved towards them, staring down at a note in her hand. “White suit… must be him,” she mumbled to herself, then looked with a smile. “Welcome to Liore! I’m Rose Thomas, the town representative you were supposed to meet.”

Wonderful. They’d have to spend the day with… wait. Envy recognized her, from their stint as ‘Father Cornello;’ she’d sat on the church steps, staring blankly, for days after Envy had started that job. She looked so... different now. Her smile actually reached her eyes—that was a terribly hard thing to fake.

“Pleased to meet you.” Kimblee held out a hand, and Envy watched carefully, to see if he’d play his favourite trick on her.

Somewhat disappointingly, Rose Thomas escaped the handshake unscathed, still smiling. “If you’ll follow me, I’d be happy to answer your questions back at the restaurant.”

“Of course,” said Kimblee with a smile, following after her down the half-paved street. Envy sighed quietly, lowering the scarf’s fabric down again. Kimblee’s discussion with this woman could take hours, and his search for the Elrics even longer than that, and with every passing minute the tightening of anxiety inside of them grew worse and worse. They had to get out. They had to get out of this repulsive body, and they needed Kimblee’s Stone…

If only they could sit down with him and reasonably discuss this, face to face, with their favourite face, smiling and laughing carelessly, and their favourite body… he’d listen to Envy then, without a doubt. But all that they had now was whispers in the precious seconds when nobody was around, with this squeaking mockery of their voice, and this horrifying body…

Envy sighed again, curling into Kimblee’s shoulder, trying to prepare for hours of dying to convince him. They’d just have to wait—they’d waited three months already, after all. They could wait another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long with this one! I've been having some bad writers' block recently, but I finally got something done! It seems a bit boring since all that they're doing is talking, in a way, but they had more things that they needed to talk about, so it had to be done.
> 
> Thanks, distant-glory, for your comment the other day; it made me able to write again and finish this chapter after what seemed like ages of not being able to--a testament to the power of comments! Thank you friend :D
> 
> It may be a little while till the next chapter comes out; I thought that I knew where the plot was going, but this chapter changed my mind slightly, so I need to do some careful planning. Thank you for your patience and for reading!


	7. Alien

_Ishval: Seven years ago_

“I’m worried, you know. I honestly can’t get to sleep at night because  I just keep thinking about… I don’t know. She’s so beautiful, and some other guy might fall for her, or…”

It had started out as Hughes feeling sorry for Kimblee—Kimblee was sure of that. Only Hughes had enough of a bleeding heart to notice (or fail to ignore) poor, lonely, socially impaired Major Kimblee sitting alone at the edge of camp, and only Hughes was brave enough to even initiate conversation with him. But even Hughes wasn’t completely selfless. The conversation had quickly transformed into a monologue: Hughes was feeling lonely, and Kimblee was the only one that the man hadn’t already driven off with his paeans to his fiancee.

The desert did strange things to people. If they were in Central, or back in military training camp, Maes Hughes would never pour out his heart to Kimblee. In the early days of military training, nobody would talk to Kimblee by choice, only by necessity. Kimblee had always been a good listener, though, and now, his listening skill made him a good target for being talked at by the desperate.

“I know it’s pretty stupid of me. I know logically that she wouldn’t run off on me; we promised to wait for each other till the war’s over.” Hughes shifted, staring blindly into the desert sand, a wistful half-smile on his face. “I guess I’m more worried about something else happening. Like… a fire, or an accident, or something else that would hurt her, and that I wouldn’t be there to help with whatever it was.” He chuckled. “Of course, there’s way more that could happen to _me_ out here on the battlefield; poor girl’s probably paralyzed with anxiety judging from how bad I feel about _her._ ”

Hughes was looking at him expectantly, and Kimblee cleared his throat, smiling pleasantly. “You worry too much,” he said lightly. “She’s in one of the most well-fortified cities in the country, far from harm. And really, think about how likely it actually is that one of your dreaded freak accidents would happen to her. I don’t think that you really need to think about her all that much now; you should focus on survival.”

His words were carefully chosen to be reassuring, but Hughes sighed dramatically, scowling petulantly towards him. “You’ve never been in love, huh?”

Accusingly, as if there was something _wrong_ with that.

Before Kimblee could react, Hughes shrugged. “Well, maybe you’re better off that way, anyway. A cool head does you good on the battlefield. I guess… you just weren’t the right person to talk to today.”

Perhaps not. Hughes made little sense to him at the best of times, let alone when he was in this emotional state. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t be of more help,” he said politely.

“S’okay.” Hughes got up from his seat, brushing stray grains of sand from his clothes. “Thanks for listening, anyway.”

Kimblee watched him walk away. Hughes was odd. But, really, Kimblee was the odd one… the fact that his mind never chased after images of other people, trying to protect them from things that he had no power over, and never feeling the misery of powerlessness that Hughes did… that made him odd.

Strange that keeping a level head—ostensibly a “good” thing in wartime—was another thing that set him apart from ordinary humankind.

“What, is he more interesting than me?”

A familiar voice broke through Kimblee’s thoughts from behind him. “Stop sneaking up on me, Envy,” he said, tipping his head back and looking up into violet eyes. “Of course not.”

“Well, good. You had me _worried_ there.” Envy’s voice dripped with sarcasm as a smirk slowly reappeared (maybe they _had_ been worried). “You’re not allowed to talk to anyone else more than you talk to me.”

And Envy could enforce that command, too. But they wouldn’t.

“I’ll talk to whoever I like,” said Kimblee idly, not breaking eye contact.

He was right. Envy only giggled, tilting their head playfully to the side. “If you say so, Crimson.”

It always gave Kimblee a bit of a thrill, seeing how close he could get to making Envy angry. It had never happened—not quite, at least—but it was such a fun game, seeing how much longer he could survive while trying to push Envy’s temper to the limits. He hadn’t ever seen the full extent of Envy’s power, after all, and the idea was still so fascinating to him even after all this time of knowing the existence of homunculi.

That was the nice thing about being friendly with Envy. Unlike poor, miserable Hughes, tortured with fear over his fiancee’s welfare, Kimblee could enjoy the company of another person without being consumed with anxiety. Kimblee of course, never worried, but to do so over Envy, the immortal, would be more than ridiculous, like worrying whether the wind would get safely home tonight, or if the ocean was feeling well. His mind was free to think only of himself.

* * *

  _Present Day_

“You really think they’ll be down here? In this dark?”

Envy’s voice was quiet in the dark, but even their whisper echoed through the damp air of the tunnel. Kimblee’s footsteps echoed too, even though he tried to walk lightly; the steady rhythm sounded like a drum, reverberating down the tunnel, repeatedly, over and over…

Oh… Envy had asked him a question, hadn’t they?

Kimblee cleared his throat, his mouth somehow drier than it should be. “Well, I don’t know for certain. But it makes logical sense.”

“Oh?” Envy shifted their position on his shoulder. “Well, prove your logic, then.”

“It’s simple, my dear…”

Dear?

“...little friend.”

Envy let out a huff, and, relieved, Kimblee forced out a chuckle and… tried to gather his thoughts again. Why did he keep _slipping up_ like this?

They were down here, because it did make logical sense, because the Elrics had seen the tunnel in Briggs, and they had seen Sloth, and if they were indeed here in Liore, a town on Amestris’ borders, it made sense that they’d be searching out for an opening in the tunnel to stop its completion. This tunnel, deep beneath the ground below the ruined church of Leto, would have been the most logical place to search if Kimblee had no contacts here and no other leads.

But it didn’t make sense to search here, because if the Elrics were in Liore, Kimblee should have been able to find that out from Rose Thomas, one way or another. But he hadn’t, because he hadn’t been _thinking…_

“Head in the clouds, huh?” Envy sounded reproachful. “You could’ve just _asked_ that girl if they were here. I thought that you wanted to get out of here and back to Central quickly. Even if she wouldn’t tell you directly, I know that you could’ve gotten it out of her somehow. You might have even gotten her to bring you to them.”

He couldn’t argue. “I wasn’t thinking, I suppose,” he admitted.

“Well, _obviously._ ” Envy’s voice still held the same kind of scorn that it always had when Kimblee didn’t live up to their lofty expectations. But again, Kimblee could only notice the _wrongness_ of it, the way that it sounded so small, so weak despite the energy that Envy put into it, the way that it so easily was swallowed up into the darkness.

“Hey. Aren’t you gonna… you can’t just _take it_ when I talk like that to you.” Envy’s feet dug into the fabric of Kimblee’s coat. “You’re supposed to talk back.”

“I’m just thinking. It’s what you wanted me to do,” said Kimblee lightly, and tried to scan the tunnel for any evidence of recent activity. Of course, that wouldn’t mean much; any of the villagers could have come down here to do repair work; this area was beneath the foundation of the church ruins, after all. He hadn’t prepared well enough for this mission; he was relying only on his improvisational skills; he should have been thinking, but he hadn’t been, not since he had arrived in Liore.

Or, he had been thinking, but about the wrong thing.

It was almost like it had been on the train, months ago, with Scar. Dr. Marcoh should have been the important thing, the thing to keep his mind on--Envy had _specifically_ said that they needed Marcoh alive, and that it didn’t matter what Kimblee did with Scar. But as soon as Kimblee had seen Scar, killing him was all that he could think about.

(Of course, that was Envy’s fault too. _You missed one,_ they’d giggled before sending him off, and he couldn’t do anything but try to make it so that they couldn’t say that ever again. But never mind that.)

Until he’d gotten tired while fighting, and then _that’s_ all that he could think about, to his detriment.

And now, _this_ was… highly frustrating, and he now felt almost as helpless as he had back then, frozen in front of Scar and unable to do anything but think about the wrong things. He didn’t know what had triggered it. He’d been fine in Central, of course—although admittedly restless—and he’d been...fine, in New Optain. And on the train on the way here, too, although… although what Envy had said then had bothered him...

“It’d be nice if you’d stop ignoring me.” Envy, again. Always Envy. “You never used to ignore me in Ishval. I wish that you’d act like _that_ again.”

“We’re not in Ishval anymore.” Kimblee shrugged, but carefully; it would be… bad if Envy fell. “I can’t act the same as then because the atmosphere here is so different.”

“Well, of course, the atmosphere was a big part of it,” said Envy thoughtfully. “I guess you couldn’t really recreate something so glorious. But you really were _so_ much more fun back then, y’know. You always talked back when you didn’t like what I said, and you laughed a lot. I didn’t think your whole personality would change just because of being in a different place. Come to think of it, though, I guess you were pretty quiet when I let you out of jail…” They paused. “Are you always this quiet now?”

Well, Kimblee always had been quiet, really. Of course, he’d always made conversation with people who talked to him: he had to, to appear normal. But he’d never sought out conversation or relationships; with few exceptions, people were far more interesting to watch than to interact with. Not to mention how… exhausting it was, trying to appear charming, and normal, and genuine.

With Envy, in Ishval, however, he had almost been talkative. But, again, that had been in Ishval. The atmosphere had been different, and Envy had been different--different from anyone else that Kimblee had ever known, and different from how they were now.

“Yes,” he said simply, swinging his torch up into the darkness. The shadows were thick down here, denser than what seemed plausible for the short distance that they’d travelled.

“Oh,” said Envy.

They seemed to have something more that they wanted to say, but Envy remained silent as the two of them continued down the tunnel.

“Where exactly are we going, then? Where are we?” they said several minutes later, breaking the silence.

Ah… Kimblee had had it planned out so clearly in his mind, but he hadn’t explained his reasoning to Envy yet. “Since I… neglected to learn for certain whether the Elrics are here,” he started, “I thought that this might be the place to investigate first. Liore is a border town, after all, and those two will probably be wanting to sabotage your family’s tunnel if they can. They’ll probably be looking for a place that leads underground, and this is one of the likely areas that they’d investigate.”

“Oh…” Envy said again. A tremor, almost imperceptible, was in their voice, but Kimblee noticed _that_  (even if he hadn’t noticed anything actually important). “I… I guess that makes a little sense,” they said hesitantly. “If you look at it in a certain way. But… but _realistically,_ I don’t think they’ll be here. I think you should look somewhere else.”

Envy’s sudden hesitation, after their boldness earlier, was... amusing, although Kimblee wondered what could have caused it. “Well, where do you suggest?” he asked, half-smiling for the first time since falsely greeting Rose Thomas. “I can’t easily go back and interrupt Ms. Thomas from her work serving people to ask her if they’re here. If I want to go through her, I’ll have to wait until tomorrow, and I thought that you wanted to go home as quickly as possible. If you have a better idea of where to look, though, go ahead and tell me where.”

“I… um…” Envy shifted, curling into Kimblee’s shoulder. “I just… I think that we should be somewhere else. The Tunnel isn’t… isn’t a safe place for _humans._ ”

They were… frightened.

Of course, it was dark in here, but really. Kimblee could easily put an end to anything that could be hiding in the tunnel. “Really, there’s nothing to be afraid of here. Or is there? If you know something that I don’t, then let go of your pride and tell me—and don’t bother trying to pretend that you’re concerned about _my_ safety.”

“It doesn’t matter, I guess.” Envy’s voice was taut as though it would break. “I can’t tell you to do anything anymore. You won’t listen.”

Kimblee stopped. “I _asked_ you if you knew anything. I’m trying to listen to you.”

He was impatient,  but… he really did want to know why they were afraid.

Envy looked up towards him, unsure, cautious. “Can you just…” Their eyes nervously scanned the shadowed walls. “I just… we… we’ve got to go. Please.”

Envy didn’t ask for things. Envy told him what they wanted. Envy didn’t say _please._

But this was the new Envy, and Kimblee actually had a choice over his own actions now.

“Alright.” Kimblee turned around. “Since you asked.” The light at the end of the tunnel seemed muffled and farther away than it should be. “You’re allowed to tell me your reasons for things, you know.”

“J-just walk a little faster.” Envy’s voice was shaking.

“Are you alright?” Kimblee asked, quickening his pace. “Really, if you’re afraid of something that’s down here, I’m more than capable—”

And suddenly it was dark, with nothing visible but ten thousand eyes glowing in Kimblee’s lantern-light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, sorry for taking so long with this. I’m not dead, and neither is this story! This school year has been tough for me because I’ve been trying to figure out what to do once my undergrad is done, along with a few other personal issues, so I haven’t wanted to spend much time on the internet. I also went through a cycle of being “into” some other things besides FMA and didn’t feel able to put enough passion into the story for it to feel genuine. I did some other fun things in my break, such as writing a major research paper and playing through the Gamecube Sonic games again, so I don’t really regret it too much, but it does feel good to put up another chapter again. 
> 
> I actually started this chapter back in July, but it seemed horrible at the time, so I set it aside for quite a while and came back to it within this week to fix up what I’d started. Hopefully the flashback isn’t too contrived; Kimvy is such a subtext-y pairing that it’s hard to write about the “present” time in FMA (even though that’s my preferred time period to work in with them) without referring back to what I imagined their Ishval days to be like. I chose to do all Kimblee POV this time because Envy got the lion’s share of the past few chapters. Also, Kimblee’s side of the relationship is more complicated, I think… I think that the way that I envision how he feels about Envy is somewhat different from what others think, so I’m trying to lay it out there carefully.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and sorry again for the long wait!


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